"It's just four blocks away," she said. But she'd stopped. So he crossed in front of her.
"Yeah, but it's freezing. Let me drive you home." He gently took her elbow and led her to his '67 Camaro Z28. He opened the door for her and then walked around to the driver's side, wondering why he wasn't more nervous.
He drove through a few residential streets toward her house. "Since I've got you in here, you wanna go for a ride?" he asked.
"Sure," she said.
He smiled at her. He drove with his wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel, his other hand operating the gear shift. They drove back toward town, made a left on main street and headed toward the river. Before they got there, though, Dustin took a left on a back road that turned into gravel just five miles out of town. There was good scenery, this way, and he liked the curves and dips in the road.
He noticed Emma's hands fidgeting in her lap. He smiled again, glad to see a chink in her armor.
"Do you do this a lot?" she asked. "I mean...just drive?"
"Oh yeah," he said. "I love driving."
She shrugged. "I guess you would in a car like this."
He glanced at her. "I've won a few drag races in this baby," he said.
She looked at him, then. "You used to race?"
"What used to? I race all the time. Didn't you know that?"
Emma shook her head. She muttered something and he thought he caught a reference to James Dean. He grinned. The hills grew steeper. For a while, the road followed the river, but then it veered east and began climbing. It came to an intersection where they made a right onto a paved highway. Dustin stepped on the gas and shifted up several times, enjoying the sound of the engine and the rhythm of the curves. The slow-building adrenaline giving him that feeling of invincibility.
It took him a few minutes before he realized that Emma was clutching her seat in a death grip.
"You want me to slow down?" he asked.
"No," she squeaked, "I trust you."
He slowed down a bit anyway. They were getting to some of the good scenery, now. Off to the right he could see through the trees the rolling Ozark Hills. They drove another couple of minutes, the elevation increasing, and then he turned abruptly onto a gravel parking area. There were no trees here and the parking area dropped off a cliff edge. In front of them was a blanket of hills with the river winding off into the distance below them.
Dustin kept the engine running for warmth. But he leaned back and slid his arm along the back of Emma's seat. She was leaning forward admiring the view.
"You've been up here before, haven't you?" Dustin asked.
"No. I've seen some lovely spots. But not this one." Then she turned and smiled up at him.
She was so beautiful. It occurred to him, then, just how young she was, both in years and in experience. Anyone looking at her could tell she was different from other women her age. She'd been sheltered and spent most of her life running around this little town helping other people. She was like a young, rural-Missouri Mother Theresa. He admired these things about her, but he also couldn't wait to dig past that and find out who she was when no one was looking.
"I'd sure like to kiss you, Emma," he said.
She turned red and looked down at her hands. His chest constricted with that rush of excitement that happened in the beginning stages of love. He dropped his arm from the seat to her shoulders and reached for her chin with his other hand, taking it in his fingers and turning her face toward him. Her lips were plump and red and begging him to taste them. And since she didn't object, he leaned down to kiss her.
The first kiss was soft and lightly lingering. He wanted to make sure she approved. But it wasn't enough. He shoved his hand into her hair and pulled her hard against him, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, his tongue forcing her lips apart. Her arms went around his neck. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss as all of his blood rushed out of his brain and headed due south. He reached back and grabbed one of her hands in his, bringing it down to his chest. He squeezed her hand, her soft, sweet little hand. Then he broke off the kiss and opened her hand, palm up and kissed it, burying his face in it. He licked her palm and kissed the soft, transparent skin of her wrist.
She gasped and he looked at her. He'd messed up her hair and it hung in disheveled strands in her face. Her cheeks were pink and her lips swollen from his kiss. He'd never seen anything so erotic in his life. He lunged at her and kissed her again, this time straying to her jaw and her neck. He opened his mouth wide and licked the place just beneath her jaw that smelled so good, so much like Emma. He moaned in pleasure. She was supple in his arms. He had one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand was in her hair. He let that hand wander down her neck and to her throat. He felt her tilt her head back. Listened to her breathing short and shallow.